Stay With Me Until The End
by ThoseWhoDon'tBelong
Summary: Dean struggles a worthless battle to try to save his last friend left. AU zombie apocalypse. Give it a shot. T for gore and language.


Dean was supporting most of his friend's weight. He had one of Castiel's arms slung around his neck and Dean had his other hand around Castiel's waist. With every move, Castiel whimpered in protest which made Dean's stomach churn. "It's okay." He murmured softly. "You're okay. I gotcha."

Slowly, Dean lowered Castiel to the ground, keeping every moment slow and gentle. Still, he flinched and groaned. The hunter kneeled down and brushed his friend's sweaty hair off his forehead which only received him a grimace. Dean patiently waited until his grimace faded before going on. "Alright. How about we check out the damage?" Castiel's bright blue eyes grew unbelievably wide. "Don't worry. I won't hurt you." Dean promised and although Castiel looked doubtful, he agreed.

Dean gave him a weak smile, but he was nearly as afraid to do this as Cass was. Carefully, he plucked at Castiel's blood soaked suit, un-tucking it and slowly pulling it up. His fresh wound was displayed on his pale stomach. Castiel had a deep gash that was drenching his stomach with the scarlet, sticky liquid. The skin around it was mangled and tore. It looked painful. Dean could suddenly understand why his friend was so fragile. "That son-of-a-bitch got you good, didn't he?" He tried to lighten the mood, but it fail miserably. His own voice was shaking badly.

"Bit me." Castiel mumbled, sucking in a gasp of breath. His breathing had been unsteady since the attack. Those things came out of nowhere. Dean managed to escape with only a skinned knee, but Cass wasn't so lucky. One of those things grabbed him and sunk those yellow teeth straight into his stomach. "Hurts, Dean. It hurts."

"I know, Cass." Dean cooed, his voice remaining as tender as possible. He knew things Cass didn't. This happened to Sam. He got bit. It only took a few hours for him to finally die of the fever. He got up later though. Dean was astonished, thinking it was a miracle. It was far from it. That wasn't his brother Dean shot. It was the monster who killed him. Still, the hunter couldn't do the same thing to Cass. He couldn't kill _another_ member of the family. There had to be a way to fix this and Dean was going to find it. "But I'm gonna clean this off and it'll heal, okay? You just gotta hang in there for me. Can you that?" He received a weak nod. Dean gave him another small, forced smile lightly running his fingers though the wounded man's hair. The gestured seemed to relax him, if only just a bit. "Thanks, Cass. Deep breaths, okay? You have to keep breathing."

At that, Dean pulled away and began to rummage through his backpack. It had only the essentials in it; a first aid kit was included. He pulled out the rubbing alcohol before turning back to Castiel.

"Cass." He uttered and immediately Castiel sucked in a breath of air, forcing himself to breath steadily. Judging by his expression, the poor guy was terrified. He ought to be terrified though. This was going to hurt and they both knew it. "Good. Breath."

And they began. Dean popped the lid off the bottle and spilled what was inside onto the laceration. The reaction wasn't surprising. Instantly, Castiel lurched upward, sucking in a sharp gulp of air. Dean dropped the bottle and put two firm hands on his shoulders, holding him down as he writhed. He was screaming and he twisted furiously. "Dean!" He wailed once he finally found his tongue. "Dean, please!"

Dean squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn't bear to look at him in so much agony. "Shh…" He soothed as he held him to the hard, cold ground. "I know. Nice, deep breaths though, okay? Deep breaths, Cass. There you go. Keep it up."

Castiel's teeth were gritted together and grinding, but he was breathing deeply as he was told to. His eyes were pressed tightly shut, but were beginning to seep tears. It took a few minutes longer before his thrashes finally ended, by that time though; tears were streaming uncontrollably down his face.

Dean's eyes were opened too, staring down at him. He made sure his writhes were completely finished before he finally released his grip. "You're still hanging in with me?" Castiel's head jerked up and down in a nod. "Good. Fight through the pain, you hear me? Don't you give up! Go down swinging, Cass." Castiel swallowed, but again nodded. Again, Dean ran a hand through Castiel's sweat soaked hair, continuing this for a while, to calm him. His eyes drooped shut.

After five minutes of soothing, Dean knew he had to get back to business. The wound need more than just a splash of disinfectant. He moved back down to his stomach at which times Castiel's eyes shot back open. Dean twisted back around to the bag and pulled out a roll of bandages and a handful of paper towels. The blood still sat in a pool on his stomach. It had to go.

Dean doubled the paper towels and pressed them onto the wound. Again, Castiel struggled underneath him. One of his hands even shot up and rounded Dean's wrist, clenching it hard enough to make the bones grind. "Easy, Cass." He pacified, forcing himself not to flinch from the amount of pressure. "Easy." The grip lightened, but he looked just as miserable.

"Hurts." Castiel whimpered as Dean finished wiping his stomach clean. "Please, Dean. Please stop. I want it to stop."

"Only a little longer." Dean mumbled, as he pulled a line of the bandage from the roll. It would have been great if he could sew up the gouge, but a needle was hard to keep track of in an apocalyptic world where the dead attacked the living. The hunter always knew the world would off itself at some point. It was only a matter of time. "Almost finished."

Dean wrapped the bandage around and around Castiel's abdomen until no more blood could be seen. By the time he finished, the roll was just about empty, but his friend wasn't looking any better. Still wrecked by agony and shaking. "Cass." Dean murmured quietly. "What do you say we get you to a more comfortable place so you can get some sleep?" Castiel agreed, but Dean knew there was no chance he would be able to get himself there. He wouldn't let that hold them back though. Dean carefully wrapped his arms around Castiel and lifted him in a cradling style. Castiel winced, but managed to hold back a cry of pain, which Dean was thankful for.

During their frantic escape, neither of them paid a great deal of where they were going, anywhere with a locking door. Apparently, they had entered a department store. Not a bad place to be stuck in. Dean carried Castiel, who seemed to be fading in and out of consciousness, in his arms until he found the furniture section of the store where he slowly lowered his friend only one of the beds. His eyes opened again when the touch of Dean was gone, brow furrowed.

"Think you'll be okay why I go get you some water?" Dean asked, leaning against the bed post. He was exhausted, but couldn't just stop. Not when Cass needed him so dearly.

"I will be alright." Castiel mumbled, lying flat on his back. It looked uncomfortable, but it would be the most desirable position. All others would be far worse considering his wound.

"Good. Try to get some sleep, okay?" Dean said, putting his hand on his friend's cheek. It was burning up. The fever had already hit. Dean couldn't tell him though. Couldn't tell him what he was sure to become.

"I will." Castiel promised, offering a pathetic attempt at a smile. It just looked like another grimace, regardless, Dean returned a small smile and squeezed his hand before turning and walking off.

Dean's pace increased rapidly once he would out of the sight of his friends and he eyes started to burn with tears. Once he finally found the vending machine – which was already broken open from an earlier raid – Dean allowed himself to fall apart. Tears ran down his face. "God dammit." The hunter hissed through bared teeth, scrubbing the tears away. "God dammit, Cass…" Who did he have left now? First Bobby, then Sam, now Cass? No. Not another.

Dean reached into the vending machine, pulling out one of the few bottles of water that was left. On the walk back to Castiel, the hunter cleaned his face. He couldn't let his friend see how broken he was.

Once back, Dean put a hand on Castiel's shoulder, giving it the smallest shake possible. "Wakey, wakey, feathers." He teased gently. "I have your water." Not a twitch. Dean's brow creased. "C'mon, Cass, time to get up." Nothing. Taking a deep breath, Dean raised a shaking hand to Castiel's neck, searching for the pulse with his index and middle fingers. He found none. Dean hovered his hand in front of Castiel's nose. No breathing.

"Shit." Dean whispered, staring at Castiel. "Fuck. Fuck!" His voice rose to a yell quickly. The one person he had left to save was dead. He failed yet again.

Dean didn't know how long it was before his break down was finally finished. Cass still wasn't up, so it couldn't have been more than two hours. He stepped back up to the bed and pressed his lips to the damp forehead of his fallen friend. He was already cold. "Don't worry, Cass." Dean whispered. "I'm here. I won't leave. I promised." He sat on the edge of the bed. "I'm not gonna shoot you. I'll be with you 'til the end."

And Castiel's glassy eyes opened.


End file.
